Tuesday, January 5, 2010

hungry like the

I dreamed that I was at work and a strange woman came in and handed me a tiny scroll of paper, the length of a thumbnail. I said "What's this." And she simpered, "It's my resumé." I felt sad for her.

This job hunt causes a lot of regression for me in the lizard-brain, or something. When I think about getting a new job, all of the jobs I've held in my life no longer seem to matter and I feel the way you felt about the concept of a "job" as a child; something completely alien and challenging and something you're not capable of.
It doesn't matter that the job I have now is probably reasonably mentally challenging. I live such a strange mixture of being okay with myself and hating myself/having no self-confidence.

I don't have time to get started on the wording of hiring ads. There is some sort of unspoken pact in the employment world that everyone must talk in empty cliches.

It gets worse, though. Here's me during an interview:

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